Sherlock Drabbles and Short Stories
by Xayhra
Summary: This is my first Sherlock fic. This is going to be a whole bunch of Sherlock drabbles and short stories that pretty much don't have anything to do with each other. I just didn't want to have 50 different Sherlock one-shots. Anyway, rated K plus for safety. Absolutely no slash.
1. Cave Tours

**So I went on vacation to Mammoth Cave this weekend and it gave me this idea. I'm really sorry if I made Sherlock OOC. He's a hard character to write. Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. BTW, White Scar Cave is an actual cave in the UK.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

"I really don't know how you managed to talk me into this, John," Sherlock complained as the two waited under a large pavilion for everyone to assemble together before their tour of White Scar Cave in Yorkshire Dales National Park.

"Well, Lestrade, had no interesting cases for you, so you were bored. And you were annoying the heck out of Mrs. Hudson and I with tearing up the flat for cigarettes and insisting I play Cluedo with you. And you were shooting at the wall again!"

Sherlock was about to reply when the tour guide started explaining that they would be going through a very low area, a very skinny area, and be climbing over five hundred steps.

Sherlock did not look happy at the mention of the low-ceilinged portion of the cave. John, on the other hand, didn't seem worried at all.

The beginning of the tour went fine—until they reached the low portion of the cave. This caused Sherlock to shout "I _hate_ this bloody stupid cave!" and several more, shall we say, _explosive_ outbursts. Unfortunately, they were close enough to the tour guide (whose name, John remembered, was Emily) for her to hear Sherlock's coarse exclamations.

"Excuse me, sir," she said. "I would like to remind you—"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you would," Sherlock said briskly.

Emily favored him with a nasty glare. "—That there are children here and you will not be welcomed back if you continue your current language."

"Oh, it's not like they haven't heard it all before. It's all over the telly and radio."

Emily stepped up close to Sherlock. "I recently got my black belt in Tae Kwon Do. I assure you, you don't want to mess with me," she hissed.

"No, you haven't. And you wouldn't hit me anyway because you need the money from this job to save up money to divorce your good-for-nothing, drunkard, abusive husband."

"Sherlock. . . ." John warned.

"How—?"

"It's quite simple—"

"Sherlock!" John warned again.

Sherlock ignored him. "By the mark on your finger, I can easily tell that you regularly take your wedding ring off, but not to go sleeping around as you would have a distinctive odor about you. Therefore, you are unhappily married. Your fingernails are short and cracked and your hands are rough and calloused. You obviously do almost all the work and you smell of alcohol you did not consume, so good-for-nothing and alcoholic. You flinch whenever a man comes too close to you and you have bruises under your clothes. How did I know that, you ask? You walk with a limp and you refrain from bending or twisting as much as possible. But how do you know I'm saving up for a divorce, Mr. Holmes? Easy. You need new clothes as those have been sewn several times and you have worn a few times this week, judging by the stains. You refuse to pay the money to buy new clothes because we really need the money for the divorce."

Emily started to cry and ran as well as she could back the way they had come.

John watched her leave then turned to Sherlock. "Oh, jolly good job, Sherlock," John said sarcastically. "Now we don't have a tour guide."

**Well, hopefully you liked it and I didn't get Sherlock totally wrong. Please review! **


	2. Don't Eat That

**So, I forgot to add in my last chapter to say that I would appreciate it if you would give me a prompt word or phrase. Keep in mind though that I do not write pairings of any kind. You can tell me in a review or pm. Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or McDonald's.**

"Sherlock, do you want anything from McDonald's while I'm there?" John asked, standing next to the door with his hand on the knob.

"No. . . ." he said slowly without looking up from the newspaper.

John shrugged and left.

He returned about forty-five minutes later. Sherlock seemed to have not moved an inch since he left.

John sat down opposite Sherlock and opened the bag from McDonald's. He pulled out a Big Mac and opened his mouth to take a bite.

"You're not really going to eat that, are you?" Sherlock asked, not looking up.

"Um, I was planning to."

"Do you know how they make those?"

"Do I really want to?"

"No, Moriarty threw up when I told him."

**No offense to McDonald's, but who knows what is in those hamburgers. Anyway, I hope you (sorta) liked it. Please review! Prompts or suggestions appreciated!**


	3. Meeting with Mycroft

**Prompts appreciated! Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

"Why couldn't Mycroft have just come by the flat?" Sherlock grumbled.

"Because he wanted to spend time with you," John said, exasperated.

"My brother doesn't want to spend quality time with me. He wants something from me. You don't have to come with me."

"Yes, I do. You'd offend everyone in a two mile radius if I let you go alone."

"What's wrong with that?"

"It's rude!"

"Your point, John?"

John groaned. "Stop complaining. We're here. Try not to be a jerk." They climbed out of the cab and walked toward the restaurant. A woman was holding the door open. "Thank you," John said politely.

"You're only doing that because you're paid to. Oh, and I recommend you stop sleeping with your boss."

The woman's mouth fell open. "How—?"

"Ignore him," John said quickly and pulled Sherlock away. "What did I tell you about being a jerk?"

"I wasn't. I was giving honest advice."

John sighed and glared at him. Then he turned to a waitress and became Mr. Polite again. "Hello, is a Mr. Mycroft Holmes here?"

The waitress nodded and pointed to a table at the back of the restaurant. "Just over there."

"Thank you." John practically dragged Sherlock over to Mycroft's table.

They sat down and Sherlock asked, "What do you want?"

"Why would I want anything, dear brother?"

"Because you always do."

"Correction, I usually do. This time, I don't."

"Mycroft, do you know me? You're fiddling with the buttons on your shirt cuffs—"

"Sherlock, don't cause a seen in the restaurant," John hissed.

Sherlock, as ever, ignored him. "Why? Because you're nervous. Why you I be nervous, Sherlock? Because you want something from me and you're not sure I'll say yes. Whatever it is, the answer is no. Can we go now?"

Mycroft glared at him. "You're right—"

"I know I'm right."

Mycroft's glare intensified. "_But_ you don't have a choice about this one."

Sherlock snorted. "I don't take orders from you."

"The Queen is inviting you to a ball."

**So do you want me to write a one chapter continuation of this chapter or just do another one-shot? You can tell me in a pm if you don't want to review. Prompt words appreciated! Please review!**


	4. The Ball

**Thanks very much to ConsultingAngelWarlock for her review and prompts! So, thanks to ConsultingAngelWarlock, I have decided to write a scene from the Queen's ball, probably much to Sherlock's dismay.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

"I hate Mycroft!" Sherlock complained as he stalked out of his bedroom dressed as a surgeon.

"No, you don't. You just don't particularly like him at this point. And you can't go like that," John replied.

"Wrong, I've always hated my brother. Why can't I go like this? Why do you shoot down everything I put on?"

John glared at him. "You have not always hated him. And you were dressed as a woman last time you came out here! Put a suit on!"

"How would you know? If I wear a disguise, no one will know who I am. I am not putting a suit on!"

"I highly doubt you were this much of a smart aleck as a child! Why do you care if people know who you are or not? Yes, you are putting a suit on!"

"Never underestimate small children. I don't have to talk to idiots that way! Make me!"

"You mean, you don't have to worry about being too rude. Oh, wait, never mind, YOU NEVER DO! I will make you!"

"You're right that I don't care. How?"

John just glared at him. Sherlock watched him carefully and decided that it might not be a good idea to disobey John on this one.

"Fine, but don't think I'm giving up! You will hear more about this!" Sherlock turned and stalked back into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

John sighed and muttered, "I'm sure I will."

"I heard that!" Sherlock shouted.

At precisely that moment, Mrs. Hudson walked into the flat. "What is all this yelling about?!"

"Don't worry, Mrs. Hudson. It's all solved now," Sherlock shouted from his bedroom.

"I hope so. Now you boys have fun at the ball tonight and give the Queen my love."

John heard some muffled cursing about "people's definition of fun" from the direction of Sherlock's room. "We'll have a lovely time, Mrs. Hudson. Will do."

Mrs. Hudson smiled and patted him on the arm. Then she turned and, shutting the door behind her, left the room.

Sherlock stalked back out of his room, now wearing a sharp black suit. John smiled slightly and nodded. "That'll do. Now let's go or we will be late."

When they arrived at Buckingham Palace, the guards at the front of palace opened the doors and motioned them in. They glanced around at the several hundred men and women dancing, talking, and eating around the humongous and breath-taking ballroom. "I never expected that I would actually ever be invited here," John said in awe.

Sherlock shrugged. "There's way too many people here."

John turned to his flatmate. "What do you mean by that?"

"There's so much stupid in this room!"

"Well, be nice to the stupid people. Now let's go find your brother."

They shuffled their way through the crowd, constantly being stopped by people wanting to chant, predominantly women. It took them about half an hour, much to both's annoyance, to find Sherlock's older brother.

Before John could stop him, Sherlock sidled up to his brother, who was deep in conversation with an attractive woman, and said, "How are you liking that new diet, Mycroft?"

The woman shot him a how-rude look. Mycroft turned to his brother. "What a pleasure to see you this evening, brother," he said stiffly. Then he turned to the woman and said, "My lady, this is Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, Lady Kathryn."

Sherlock extended his hand cordially and Lady Kathryn shook his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holmes," she said. Sherlock just nodded, but he was obviously holding back a comment.

She then excused herself and as soon as she left, Sherlock hissed, "She's a hooker, Mycroft."

Mycroft glared at him. "No, she's not."

"Yes, she is. Just look at her-"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure that's very important right now," John broke in.

Mycroft turned to him. "Oh, yes, the Queen wanted to meet you both as soon as you arrived."

Mycroft guided the two other men to a raised podium where the Queen was sitting.

They bowed and the Queen motioned to them to come over to her. She stood up and shook both John's and Sherlock's hands. "Very nice to meet you," she said.

"Did you know your niece is a hooker and one of your sons is a drunk?" Sherlock said.

"Sherlock!" Mycroft and John shouted.

**No disrespect to the Queen's sons or nieces. This is purely fiction. BTW, I know nothing about etiquette for meeting the Queen of England so that's probably all wrong. I hope you liked it! Please review! **


	5. Friendship

**Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

"Sherlock?" John asked as he sat down in the chair opposite the consulting detective.

Sherlock glanced up from whatever he was looking up on John's laptop. "What?"

"What's your take on friendship?"

"Unnecessary."

John glared at him. It had been two weeks since the case with the Hound. "We both know that's not true."

Sherlock eyed him reproachfully. "What if it is now?"

John's glare intensified. "So I accidentally threw away your toes!"

"Those were very important to my research!"

"They were decomposing in the dishwasher! And it was on, no less."

"It is imperative to my research to see the growth of bacteria on feet in ever-moving water."

"Then why didn't you get all of the feet?!"

"Molly wouldn't give me any whole feet."

John sighed. "Well, back to my original question-"

"I already answered that."

"I want an honest answer!"

"It was honest."

"No, it wasn't."

Sherlock sighed. He knew very well that his answer wasn't honest, but he wasn't the kind of person to tell John about his real take on friendship.

John scowled. "Fine. Don't tell me. I don't care." He turned on his heel and stalked up the stairs to his bedroom.

"John-" Sherlock started, but John ignored him. Sherlock sighed again. How was he going to fix this?

**Hope you liked it! Prompts appreciated! Please review!**


	6. Persnickety

**Thanks to ConsultingAngelWarlock and Lorrie the Ninja Elf for their reviews! Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

"John!" Sherlock shouted.

John sighed and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. Three in the morning. What did Sherlock want at this time? He rolled out of bed and sauntered downstairs. "What can you possibly want at this God-awful hour?!"

"Did you move anything on the table?" Sherlock asked, pointing to the kitchen table, with was piled high with tons of scientific things.

"No, I did not. Why couldn't this have waited until morning?"

"It is morning! And it is completely vital that nothing is moved!"

"This is not morning. Well, I didn't move anything."

"Then I'll have to ask Mrs. Hudson."

"You are not waking dear old Mrs. Hudson because you _think_ something on your stupid table has been moved!"

"It is not stupid!"

"It is too!"

"No, it's not!"

"Stop being persnickety!"

"Who even says that word anymore?"

"I do, and you are paying way too much attention to trivial details!"

"My table is not trivial. It is vital-"

"To your research, I know! Now I'm going back to bed and you can continue playing with your stupid experiments and all those other stupid things you do, you annoying git!"

"You're still mad about the friendship question," Sherlock said in a slightly awed voice.

"Oh, look, another brilliant deduction from the world's only consulting detective!" John said sarcastically.

"Okay, fine. I find your friendship important because you are my best and only friend. And even with your typical ordinary human stupidity, you balance me out, okay?"

John sighed and knew that this was great strides in feeling for the self-diagnosed sociopath. Even the comment about "typical ordinary human stupidity" was almost nice coming from him. "Thank you."

"I'll let you know that was torturous."

John rolled his eyes. "I'm going back to bed."

**Hmm, so what do you think? Please review! Prompts appreciated!**


	7. Planets

**Thanks to TugLover98, Lorrie the Ninja Elf, and Ballykissangel for their reviews and suggestions! So today I had this big long list of stuff I was going to do today and that didn't happen because I got distracted by Doctor Who memes. . . . So I'm writing this instead of one of my stories that haven't been updated in a month. I feel evil. . . . Oh, well. Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or Doctor Who.**

"So," John said, glancing up from his laptop, "since you don't know that the earth goes around the sun, do you know any of the planets?"

Sherlock glared at him from the kitchen where he was conducting some experiment or another. "It's not necessary for my work."

"Oh, come on, you've got to know at least one!"

"Earth."

"That doesn't count!"

"It's a planet!"

"Yes, but everyone, even you, knows that one!"

Sherlock sighed. He didn't actually know any planets. Well, actually, he remembered one from some show he had watched on the telly. . . . "Raxacoricofallapatorius."

John's face looked slightly shocked. "That isn't a planet."

"The Doctor says it is!" Sherlock argued.

"Why were you even watching Doctor Who? You're Mr. Logical! Why are you watching sci-fi?"

"I thought it was a medical drama and I was going to make fun of it."

John's look of shock grew as he took this in. "You didn't know anything about Doctor Who and you remembered the name of one of the planets?!"

"Not really. . . . Mycroft is a Whovian."

**Told ya I was looking at Doctor Who memes. It's on the brain. Wouldn't it be hilarious though if Mycroft really was a Whovian? It's so not him. Please review!**


	8. Mind Palaces

**Thanks to Ballykissangel and TugLover98 for their reviews! Yes, I'm abandoning my other stories again and writing this. But I have good news! Moriarty is in this chapter! He's hard to write, so sorry if he is completely off. Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock.**

John frowned as a thought struck him. "Sherlock?"

"Shut up!"

John glared sharply at the severely bored man laying on the couch. "Why?"

"Your questions bore me even more."

"Too bad. Does your Mind Palace look like a palace?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"Well, it occurred to me that I didn't know, and I thought I'd ask."

"Yes, it even has a princess living in it with her unicorn," Sherlock said sarcastically. "It's just a jumble of thoughts that I sort through. I call it my Mind Palace because it seems to have a lot of rooms and floors."

John thought for a minute. "That actually makes sense."

"You should have heard Moriarty describe his 'Mind Palace'. . ."

_Moriarty sighed and glared at his prisoner. "Oh, Sherly, you're boooorrring meee. You're soooo _normal_ today!" he whined._

_Sherlock returned the glare. "Well, I'm bored so I can't possibly be interesting to you right now."_

_"Maybe we should torture him, boss," Sebastian suggested._

_Moriarty swung toward his minion with a terrifying sneer crossing his face. "Do I take orders from you, Sebby?! No, I don't! Leave us! I want to talk to our prisoner."_

_"You do realize 'the prisoner' is sitting right here, sí?"_

_"Don't go speaking Spanish on me. Want to hear about my Mind Torture Room?"_

_"A ti te gusta Westwood."_

_Moriarty ignored his uncooperative prisoner. "It's filled with techniques on how to torture people! I have a whole library on how to kill someone with everyday items! I have tons of useful ways to build a bomb! And-is that a cat? Sebby!"_

_Moriarty went to find his henchman to take care of the cat. Sherlock smirked and wrestled out of the ropes surrounding him._

"Wow, Moriarty's mind is dark," John said.

"Oh, but when he came back-before I could escape-he explained about the room of unicorns and pink."

**Yes, weird, I know. Oh, and Sherlock said "you like Westwood" in Spanish. Or, at least, to the best of my knowledge. (from Spanish class, not Google Translate) Anywho, I hope you liked it! Please tell me what you think of my Moriarty! Please review!**


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